Four Months

Jack "Bear" Storms reached his four month milestone yesterday.  He celebrated by having a bottle after day care, followed by some play time on his mat and in his jump jump.  In sum, a good day was had by all.  Because I'm with Jack every single day, I really don't notice that much ever changes as time goes by.  However, looking at this month's picture, when compared to last month's, you can really tell that he's starting to enter into his own.  His personality is beginning to develop, as is his sense of humor and affinity for certain toys and people. 

For starters, he loves his Sophie giraffe that his Auntie Lindsey gave him.  I think the only thing that gets him worked up is that he can't shove the whole thing in his mouth.  Because he really tries to just about every day.  He runs hot and cold with his play mat and jump jump.  There are days you have to drag him out, but other days he will wail the minute you put him down.  

In terms of skills, he has started to sit up on his own - albeit for brief periods of time.  Usually, I have to surround him with pillows because he will tip over in any given direction at any point.  He really likes to sit up and look around.  You can tell he's really proud of himself when he does this.  He also gets really proud of himself when he "stands" up.  However, when he "stands" up, he's usually standing on my stomach.  If I'm wearing glasses, he lunges for them, trying to pull them off my face.  Another new and favorite game.  He also loves playing "Super Baby" and flying around the room to the planet Krypton.  Don't judge.   

Yesterday, he also held his bottle on his own for the first time.  Granted, he wasn't exactly coordinated at it, but he managed to keep it in his mouth for a while and hold it there.  I was, of course, close by to rectify the situation if needed.  Jack is also "crawling" for lack of a better term.  It's not really crawling, I guess.  He moves like an inch worm.  He scoots his butt up and down in the air, which propels him forward.  He doesn't use his arms, so he basically just pushes and drags his face along the floor.  It's pretty funny to watch.  He really only makes it a few feet before he gets frustrated with himself.  

He's also discovered the wonder that are his feet.  There's a yoga pose - happy baby - and Jack does this all the time.  But only when his socks are off.  Go figure.  He grabs at his feet with both hands, holds them, and rocks back and forth.  This is quite a common pose for him to adopt during diaper changes and bath time.  Jack is also starting to understand kisses.  Over the past few days, every time I say "give me a kiss" he opens his mouth wide and hits me on the face with his drooly little mouth.    

Finally, this kid just loves music.  He's partial to reggae, as I noted before, but he also likes show tunes, classic rock and country music.  Tried as I might, I cannot get him to groove out to either Britney Spears or Justin Timberlake.  He loves dancing with me to "Tiny Dancer" and we sing "Faithfully" by Journey all the time.  I sing him songs from "Showboat" when he's in the bathtub, and we listen to Taylor Swift and Keith Urban when we're cooking and driving to day care. 

So, that's the latest on the little man.  I love watching him discover the world around him.  Everything is amazing to behold.  Oh, to be a kid again - even if it was just for the day!

Holy Crap!

In my last post, I referenced the fact that we had started supplementing Jack's feedings with formula.  Because he has a tendency to spit up half of what he eats after any given feeding (no, this is not an exaggeration), I picked a formula for more sensitive stomachs and it's soy-based.  I am here to tell you that stuff stinks, no matter what form it's in.  It stinks in the bottle, it stinks if he spits some of it up, and it definitely stinks coming out his other end. 

There's a scene from "Three Men and a Baby" that always makes my mom laugh.  Yesterday, as I was changing Jack's diaper, I felt as though I was in that scene.  I've posted a link to it below:

Jack and I were on the couch, enjoying some play time and tunes, when an ominous scent started wafting my way.  I wasn't sure if it was a tooter or not, so I kept playing with him...until the scent grew stronger.  It was every parents' worst nightmare - a SBD poop.  That's Silent - But Deadly for those of you not up on your acronyms.  So, we headed upstairs to get rid of the offending agent.  All I can say is that there are diaper changes - and then there are DIAPER changes.  This was one of the latter events.  I can't even describe the smell that came from that little body.  It was enough to make me back away, gagging, in search of some clean air to drag into my lungs.  Still, diaper duty must be completed.  Here is Jack, pre-diaper change:

The other complication seems to be that our changing table is just not long enough to put the offending parcel out of Jack's reach.  He squirms, wriggles and kicks, flailing all extremities in any given direction.  He loves not having his diaper on.  It's like Christmas and his birthday rolled into one.  You may ask why I don't directly deposit the diaper into the Genie, but in a situation such as was occurring yesterday, he managed to get poop both up his back and front.  This requires me to hold said squirming and kicking legs in a position of suspension while grabbing wipes from underneath the changing table, in order to prevent the unholy mess from getting all over the changing table and then, my child.  I simply cannot deposit the diaper in the Genie through telekinesis.  I've tried.  So, I got him cleaned up, and as I was wrapping together the mess of stank, Jack threw his legs down on the table with conviction.  His aim was completely accurate, and they slammed right into the diaper bundle.  And the mess that I had tried so diligently to contain was now everywhere.  

The smell was terrible.  There are no words or adjectives to describe it.  I may have screamed, I may have moaned, and a few explatives may have escaped my lips.  And Jack looked at me and just laughed, as if getting covered in his own mess was his ulterior motive the entire time.  And what could I do?  I had to clean it up.  As I'm holding Jack with one arm on the table, I reach again underneath for the wipes, only to discover that I used the last one during Round One.  Jeff wasn't home yet, so I had to strap the little monster down on the soiled changing table so I could rouse up some new wipes from the industrial sized box that I bought at Costco.  When I returned, the mess seemed to have doubled in size.  This was a Catch-22 situation - what to clean first?  The child or the changing table?  No matter which one I choose first, I run the risk of having to repeat the entire process, since poop transferrence from either party is the likely result.   

So, I stripped Jack down, much to his delight.  He was then deposited into the bath tub and washed several times over.  After that, I stripped down the changing table and threw everything into the wash - set to the "heavy duty" cycle because, let's be honest, that's really what this was (read into the word play I just made with "duty").  Then, I used a can of Lysol and a bottle of  409 to clean up the remanents.  And then the poop debacle reached its conclusion.  Lesson learned - when you get a whiff of soy-based poop, don't ever mistake it for a tooter.  Get to that biz-nass early.  And here he is, post-poop debacle, in all his naked glory...he looks pleased with himself, don't you think?

         

In other news, the little man seems to have really found his voice.  He wants to communicate, that much is obvious.  He lets out a steady stream of vowel sounds that Jeff thinks sound like dolphin noises.  Also, I know this may seem a bit of a stretch, he seems to have doubled in size since we started supplementing with formula.  He definitely feels heavier and I think he got another chin over the weekend.  And, while he's always been a mama's boy, he seems to have developed quite the affection for my dad.  Jack follows him around with his eyes whenever Papa is in the room, and really shows off all his skills when he's playing with my dad.  Papa seems to think it's because he's always plying Jack with toys.  I think it's Papa's mustache. 

I'm also crossing my fingers that he's going to start dropping a feeding at night.  Last night, he woke up around 1:00, asking for a meal.  Granted, he was fussing for about an hour, but after I changed his diaper (poop free, thank goodness), fed him, rocked him, and played some tunes, he went back to sleep.  When my alarm went off at 6:00 this morning, he was still sleeping.  Jeff and I both had some concerns that he was still breathing, but after a quick check on the video monitor, we declared that all was well as we watched him shake his little booty in his sleep.  I'm hoping this pattern continues. 

Guilt

Here's something no one really tells you about when you become a mother - you tend to feel incredibly guilty.  A lot.  This guilt seems to double when you're a working mother because you feel like you've got one foot in the working world and another in the kingdom of motherhood, and at times, it seems like you're failing miserably in both. 

We've been struggling with Jack at night.  This past week, he has been up no fewer than four times every night.  I tried to let him cry it out for a bit, but that lasted a total of ten minutes, so I ended up getting up with him every single time.  Jeff made a few attempts to step in so I could rest, but we were ill-equipped to deal with a screaming infant at 3:30 in the morning.  Read:  we didn't have any milk defrosted or bottles prepared.  As a parent, I try to run the show, but this past week, it feels as though Jack has taken up residence in the director's chair.  Kids are undoubtedly like a locked door, and it's up to us, as parents, to figure out what key needs to go in the lock.  I keep telling myself that "I'm the boss!" but my hand in the matter is less than firm. 

Yesterday, I woke up, feeling like a zombie.  I hadn't had much rest the entire week, and I felt like I was composing a love note to my coffee machine in my head.  So, Jeff suggested that I take the afternoon off to rest.  He would take care of day care pick up and drop off.  This was hard to agree to, but I'm not really an effective lawyer on little sleep and I'm not much good as a mother either.  So, I assented.  

I drove home yesterday afternoon, past Jack's day care, and I was overcome with a sense of guilt.  Then, the guilt came crashing down on me that I wasn't in the office.  I felt like I was taking an afternoon off to enjoy myself as a lady of leisure but I think a mental break may have been just what I needed.  I laid on the couch, caught up on my TiVo, and took a nap.  Maybe I was a lady of leisure, but I'm trying to make myself feel less guilty about it by reaffirming the fact that I really, truly needed a mental health (half) day. 

The time off from work and from being a mom gave me some time to think as well as added perspective about the problem we're facing and how to best combat it.  Babies are simple creatures, and their needs are fairly straightforward.  So, I thought about what issue it was that we're facing at this moment.  I decided he was hungry and that I wasn't keeping up with the demands of his growing little body. 

So, I tried a little experiment.  When it was time to put Jack down for the night, I walked over to the cupboard where we keep his bottles, and pulled down the canister marked "Similac" and I fixed him a bottle.  I made more than what I thought he could eat in a single feeding.  Lo and behold, he took down almost the entire bottle and we didn't have any sort of struggle like we normally do at night.  That alone let me know that I was onto something. 

He woke up about five and a half hours later and so, I gave him another bottle.  That held him over for another four hours, and after that feeding, he slept until 7:30.  Not a perfect night, but it was better.  And so, this mom found the key that worked and used it.  Which again, leads us to another unprecedented amount of guilt.  Guess what?  I have limits.  This is hard for me to accept.  I wanted to do it all, be successful in all arenas of my life, but it really can't be done.  And I need to be okay with that.  And guess what?  There are tools to help me be more successful in life.  Similac, for one, is an excellent tool.  It keeps my child full for a longer period of time, allowing me to sleep for longer stretches, which makes me more present and focused at home and at work. 

I'm going to keep up with feeding my child the good ol' fashioned way for as long as I am able to do so, since I know there are benefits.  Still, as I was looking at Jack in his bunny chair this morning, I realized he was still the happy boy he always is, and my little "experiment" didn't phase him at all - if anything, he benefited from it as well.  And if you really think about it, if he gets thrown in jail when he's a teenager, it isn't going to be because I stopped being able to exclusively feed him at four months of age. 

I can objectively tell myself all these things but a part of me, no matter how small, still feels as though I've failed him somehow.  If I stayed at home, this would never have really been an issue.  But then I ask myself if I wouldn't feel guilty for doing just that.  Like I said earlier, mothers will always have something to feel guilty about, I guess. 

St. Patrick's Day

A year ago on St. Patrick's Day, I found out I was pregnant with Baby Jack.  This morning, I went back and read my blog post from that day.  I sounded cautiously hopeful.  However, I remember being very frustrated with all the fertility treatments we had been through and how a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders when that little word showed up on that silly stick. 

And now, Jack is almost sixteen weeks old.  He's growing and changing by the minute and developing a personality that's all his own.  Fortunately, he's growing up to be a very relaxed little man.  As long as he's around his mom or dad, he's happy.  If he's playing with his toys, however, you've only got about twenty minutes before he gets bored and wants to move onto the next activity. 

So, this weekend, Jack's cousin was born!  My sister was induced on Friday at 12:30 and her little man came roaring into the world at 5:49 that evening.  So Jeff, Jack, and I went up to greet the little man that night.  Jack was sleeping by the time we actually got up there, so I didn't take any pictures, but here I am with my nephew:

Willem Daniel Hoedeman

Born March 16, 2012

Weight:  9lbs. 1oz

Length:  21"

 He's a really cute little guy and when I was holding him, I kept marveling at the fact that Jack was actually smaller than that when he was born.  I forgot how tiny and cuddly little newborns are.  Especially when I compare Willem to my constantly-on-the-go little man.  They're going to call him Wim (pronounced Vim), which is the Dutch nickname for Willem.  Annie went home yesterday morning, and now she's got twelve weeks at home.  And I cannot tell you how GREEN with envy that makes me! 

Anyways, on Saturday, Jack and I went back up to the hospital with my mom to visit again, and we finally got to take some pictures of the cousins together:

Could those little buddies be any cuter together?  Just looking at the two of them is a testament to how quickly children change and grow up.  I have a feeling that they're going to be fast friends and cause all parties to develop lots of grey hairs as they get older together.  Jack also snagged Aunt Annie's bed while she was up and moving about.  He seemed to dig it:

Afterwards, we went with Grammy to the shopping mall to pay a visit to the Easter Bunny.  Jack wasn't really digging the whole experience, but I think it had less to do with the creepy bunny and more to do with the fact that I woke him up from a nap to take the picture and we were running WAY over our scheduled feeding time.  Jack does not like to wait to be fed.  And because we were at a shopping mall, Grammy had to buy baby clothes for her grandsons.  She found this hat and swooped it up.  It's a homage to Daddy, since he's all about seersucker in the summertime:  

After the mall, we went home and we all went up to the club for dinner.  Yes, we decided to venture back since it wasn't the bacon wrapped scallops that made us sick a few weeks ago.  Still, both Jeff and I commented that we wouldn't be eating those any time soon as we were looking over the menu. 

On Sunday, Jack and I hung around the house and got things organized for the upcoming week.  I think the secret to being a working mom is planning and preparation!  Do things ahead of time!  We wrote out our meals for the week, washed clothes, bed sheets, and towels, went food shopping, packed our lunches, laid out our clothes, and  made a quick Target run.  After all that was completed, Jack took a nice long nap in the afternoon, and I was able to sit outside on our back deck, read a book, and enjoy the sunshine.  I can't ever remember it being this nice in March.  I think Mother Nature is paying us back for the heinous winter we endured last year.  We managed to get out for an early morning walk and then in the afternoon, Jack and I hooked Maverick up to the jogging stroller and went out for a run.  We stopped by the park at the mid-point so Jack could play a little bit:

 

He loved the swing!  He kept kicking his legs, laughing and smiling.  It's kind of hard to believe that he's not really a "baby" any more.  He does a lot more than eat, sleep, and poop.  He's growing up and starting to explore and notice everything in the world around him.  He's starting to pick up everything that's around and yes, it then goes straight into his mouth.  Yesterday, we were having play time and I was on the floor with him, showing him his toys and he kept looking over at his Jump Jump.  Eventually, he stretched his arm out in the direction of his Jump Jump and I think he was either trying to tell me he wanted to play in it, or he wanted access to those toys.  It may not seem like a big deal, but it really impressed me!     

So, in all, we had a really great weekend, made better by the beautiful weather and Wim's entrance into this world.  And now, it's Monday, so back to reality and back to the grind.  It's still beautiful outside, so I'm hoping we can squeeze in another run when we get home today. 

Jeff Runs a Race

What a weekend!

Why is it that weekends seem to go by so quickly?  We had so much fun these past two days, that it makes going to work on Monday all the more frustrating.  On Friday, I hopped out of work early, and went over to Target.  I wanted to buy a baby Jump Jump for Jack.  You see, on Thursday night, during playtime, all he wanted to do was bounce up and down and stand up.  I had him on my lap and if I even tried to put him in a sititng position, he started kicking my stomach.  Not so much fun.  I went to bed on Thursday night with really sore arms from all the bouncing, supporting, and lifting of my little fourteen pound monster. 

So, a Jump Jump was in order.  I picked it up, brought it home, and figured that it'd take me about a half hour to put together.  Three HOURS later, I was still struggling with the stupid thing when Jeff came home.  And by that time, I was sweating and really letting the explatives fly.  Fortunately, Jeff stepped in and finished putting the stupid contraption together.  And boy, am I glad he did.  Jack loves it.  Absolutely loves it.  He loves being able to sit upright, play with all the toys, and move around.  I think it looks like a spaceship. 

In any case, Jack was content to tool around in his Jump Jump while I cooked a pasta dinner.  We never have pasta in the house, mostly because we're always trying to watch what we eat and trying to avoid carbohydrates as much as possible.  But, Jeff needed a little bit of extra energy because on Saturday, he ran a ten mile race!

Jack and I dropped him off early at the starting line and then we went to park the car.  I was a little nervous about the weather and keeping Jack warm.  Fortunately, it was really sunny and kept getting warmer as the day went on.  It was still a little windy, but the little man was a real champ.  Here we are with the sign we made for Jeff to show him our support:

I also bought Jack a pair of baby sunglasses at Target on Friday, because I didn't want him to go blind from staring into the sun.  And I'm really glad that I did because it was impossibly sunny on Saturday.  I really have no clue if Jack appreciated them or not, but he dutifully kept them on.  

Jeff ran a great race and beat his personal goal, so he was really happy afterwards, if a little cramped and tired.  So, we went to brunch with Grammy and Papa.  Jack was pretty tired from all the fresh air, so he slept through the entire meal.  When we got home, I tended to a few things around the house and then Jack, Maverick and I went for our first outdoor walk while Jeff took a nap.  I'm not sure Jack really loved it, but it was nice to get outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. 

Then, on Saturday night, we went out for dinner to celebrate a good friend's birthday.  We dropped Jack off at the gym for "Parents' Night Out."  For $15.00, the gym staffs the child care center for four hours.  I was impossibly nervous dropping him off, and I don't think they really expected to have a baby.  Still, Jack was napping peacefully when I picked him up, so things turned out just fine.  Plus, it was nice to go out and have some grown up time.  Having a little baby really does preoccupy your thoughts, and I really had to focus on keeping the conversation steered away from the fact that Jack learned to suck his fist or roll over.  I'm not sure how well I did. 

Yesterday, Jack and I went to church and then spent the rest of the day at home.  We tried going for another walk after his morning nap, but he really didn't like that.  I tried him in the jogger and I think he was pretty uncomfortable.  We walked up to try and see the alpacas in the neighborhood, but they were put away for the weekend, I think. 

Since yesterday was daylight savings time, I think that Jack's schedule was a little screwed up as well.  I woke him up earlier than he wanted to get up, and we put him to bed earlier than he was used to.  It really seemed to take a toll on him because he was up just about every hour last night.  So, when he woke up at 5:30 this morning, I went in, fed him, and went to the gym.  Finally.  It was really hard not to see him this morning.  But, like I said before, I know this is something I need to do, and therefore, to the gym I go.  Today, Jack is at Grammy Camp, which is a good thing.  I'm hoping that this week, we'll finally settle into a routine because the first few weeks being back to work have been a bit bumpy with illness and separation anxiety. 

I'm so glad it's finally March.  I think that this is one of my most favorite months for several reasons.  First off, there's March Madness.  I really love it.  I mean, I really love it.  Jeff just says that I like the gambling part, and he's probably right, but I love putting my brackets together and following the tournament results.  It's also starting to get warmer, which means I can open up the windows and we can start to go outside again.  Yesterday, during nap time, I actually took my book outside to our deck and read.  There's also Girl Scout cookies, spring vacations, and a general sense that we made it through the winter and don't have to deal with snow boots or shoveling for at least another six months.  This year, I'm looking forward to Easter.  But more importantly, I'm looking forward to meeting my nephew, who should grace us with his presence any day now.  I have my bets placed on tomorrow, but babies come when they want to.  And I should know that!   

A New Mom's Confession...

I hate to admit this.  In fact, I can't believe I'm going to admit this.  I am glad I went back to work. 

Now, don't read between the lines.  It's still impossibly hard being away from the little man every day, but I'm glad I'm working again.  The days are incredibly stressful and jam-packed; we still have kinks to work out, but its worth it.  Maybe I'm writing this because its Friday, and I know I get two whole days with my little man, but I think life is finally starting to balance itself out.

I think a large part of my sentiments have to do with the fact that Jack really likes day care.  This kind of breaks my heart in a weird way, but I know he likes going every day.  There are more things for him to do there, constant entertainment, and of course, other babies.  Every day when I go and pick him up, the ladies there tell me how happy he is, and how engaging he can be.  Of course, I already know this.  But, let's be honest, as much as I love him, he gets something at school that I just can't give him at home.  He's always been an active baby - needing to know what's going on in the world, observing everything, exploring anything, and he wants to look out at the world instead of viewing it from over his mom's shoulder.  

This morning, I dropped him off and one of his teachers swooped him up and put him in a swing, facing another little girl, Emma.  I stopped to watch him for a few minutes - at how he immediately engaged and laughed at her, and how he was rewarded when she laughed back.  He's also been getting along with another little girl, Manuela, and they seem to love tummy time together.  His teachers told me that the two of them will entertain each other for the better part of an hour if they're together on the floor.  My kid needs this more than I need to stay home with him.  That's a really hard thing to admit.   

It also seems to make the time we get together at home all the more precious.  When I get home, I am running around, trying to get ready for the next day.  I usually put Jack in the Bumbo or Baby Bjorn when getting things together or cooking.  I also try to make sure he and I play together and talk about our days for about an hour before its time to go to bed.  During that time, I try to be fully present.  The television is turned off and I don't answer my phone.  And that's the time I get to spend with my son.  It's weird, having mountains of time with him, reduced to an hour or two every day.  So, I try and make it count.  So, here we are, exploring with Sophie and working on our skills in the Bumbo:

 

But, there's a secret part of me that savors the first few moments after Jack has gone to bed every night.  The house is picked up, everything is set for the next day, and I can plop down on the couch for a few minutes of quiet.  And congratulate myself on a job done - maybe not done well, but done.  One of the things I'm trying to work on is carving some time out for myself.  I'm not really good at this yet.  For example, I haven't had my hair cut in four months, and I stopped going to the gym once I went back to work.  I'm working on fixing this.  It's not like I don't know what I need to do. 

Being a working mom is really hard.  It's hard coming to grips with the fact that I'm not ever going to be the center of my child's universe.  He will have his own unique experiences every day, and I will have mine.  We can talk about them together, but we will experience things, for the majority, apart from each other.  And this is life.  And it's not the first time I'll come to this realization either.  As he grows and gains independence, I'll be constantly reminded of the fact that he was brought in this world to live his life, even if he completes mine. 

Amending my Prior Post...

So, as it turns out, Jeff and I likely had a wicked flu on Saturday.  I called my mom yesterday afternoon to talk about Grammy Camp for today, and she said my dad had been sick since about noon.  We placed day care plans on hold, pending an improvement in his overall health.  Well, when I called them this morning, my mom was taken down!  Seriously, this stuff is nasty and will knock anyone flat on their back for a solid thirty-six hours. 

So, Jeff and I figured we could take Jack to day care this morning and he'd miss another day this week to spend with my parents.  But, when I called the center, they told me that they didn't have enough staff to cover him if he came in today.  And to complicate matters, Jack has been up since 4:30 this morning! 

So, I got up, got dressed, put Jack in the car seat and drove into work.  Thankfully, he fell asleep on the way into the office and is now sleeping peacefully in his stroller.  I have a hearing in Bemidji tomorrow, so I've got a lot of preparing to do, and I'm hoping that this little early riser will be content to sleep for most of the morning. 

So, the flu is going around.  And it's nasty. 

Last night, Jack took a bath, like he does every night, but I decided to bring out some of his bath toys, since he's becoming much more aware of his surroundings.  In any case, I found this little crab, and at first, I think he was a little scared of the crab because his eyes grew really round and he looked like he was getting nervous, because he kept looking over at me to gauge my reaction. 

I just think that picture is hysterical.  I also told you that last week, Jack started rolling over.  This has started to become somewhat more of a "problem" because he's now rolling over onto his stomach in his crib.  I don't really know if that's dangerous or not, but he can't seem to figure out how to flip onto his back.  So, last night, I went into his room several times because I could tell by his crying that he had rolled over and needed to be turned around.  I don't really know how we're going to fix that. 

 

Attack of the Killer Scallop

There's an episode of "Sex in the City" where Charlotte and Harry both come down with food poisoning at the same time after a romantic dinner...it may have been a Valentine's Day episode, I can't remember.  There are scenes of both of them, running to opposite bathrooms and laying prostrate, holding hands, on the bathroom floor.  But, let's just say it's a lot funnier on the show than it is in real life. 

Jeff and I became members of the Medina Country Club last week.  It's mostly for Jeff, so he can golf in the summer, and we can have a place to go eat that's both quiet and kid-friendly.  So, we went up to the club on Friday night for our inaugural meal.  Let's just say it's not one we're going to forget too quickly. 

We had a wonderful meal.  Seriously, everything was prepared wonderfully (or so we thought).  We had some wine, great conversation, and leaving the club, we both commented on how much we are going to enjoy being members there.  Jack slept peacefully through the entire meal.  So, when we got home, I put the baby to bed, and Jeff and I followed shortly thereafter.  About 1:30 on Saturday morning, I woke to find Jeff heading, rather quickly, into the bathroom.  Obviously, not something entirely unusual.  I got up, went into Jack's room to feed him, and came back to bed when Jeff informed me that he had just gotten violently ill.  I told him to stop telling me about it because, seriously, who wants to hear about puke?  Besides, I already have a sensitive stomach, and I was afraid I'd get the sympathy pukes.  In any case, about ten minutes later, my stomach starting roiling, and of course, I was in the bathroom, giving up everything I'd eaten for dinner.  Really gross, I know. 

For some reason, Jeff didn't get sick for the rest of the night, but I was up, every twenty minutes, running into the bathroom.  At about 4:00 in the morning, I knew I needed to go to the doctor in the morning, but I didn't know how I was going to get there.  So at my darkest point, laying in a cold sweat on the bathroom floor, I actually considered making Jeff call an ambulance to just take me to the hospital.  In any case, Jack woke up about 6:30, and I went into his room to change his diaper.  I got him on the changing table, and a wave of nausea came over me.  I hollered for Jeff, and the minute he got in the room, I ran for the bathroom.  Jeff barely got Jack's diaper changed and him back into the crib before he was running for the bathroom.  

So, we called in the cavalry. 

My parents came up (bless them, bless them, bless them) and took over for us.  We were so sick that Jeff and I were laying in our bed, in a state of semi-undress when they came into the bedroom and took the baby from us.  I can't imagine how we looked, let alone smelled.  So, my mom watched the baby while my dad took Jeff and I to the hospital.  There, the doctors gave us some anti-nausea medication and I got some IV fluids.  Consequently, Jeff was diagnosed with a middle ear infection, and I with a sinus infection, so we've really got a lot going for us right now. 

After we got home, my parents took Jack to their house so Jeff and I could get some sleep (again, bless them, bless them, bless them).  When we woke up, it felt as though we'd been through a war.  Still, it was a Saturday, and I only get so many days home with the baby.  So, I called my parents, who brought Jack back up to us.  Thankfully, he was happy to sit in my lap and actually went to bed early. 

Today, we're better than we were twenty-four hours ago.  Still both tired, a little sore, but we're putting food in our mouths again and keeing fluids down, so we are over the worst of it.  However, if you think about it, in less than a week, the Storms' household has been hit hard - RSV, an ear infection, a sinus infection, and two cases of food poisoning.  You'd think that would be enough for an entire family for a year, but it's happened to us in the span of five days.  But, the world didn't stop turning and now we're looking forward to the week and whatever new challenges await us!